Stained
by Feltbeat
Summary: It didn’t matter that every square inch of me felt as though on fire, carved apart and tortured to its very limit. It didn’t matter because I knew these would be the last things I would ever feel again. R&R.


**Stained**

**A Twilight Oneshot**

**By Feltbeat**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the original characters. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. I do, however, own the plot, any original ideas, and creativity. **

_"I waited for you today, but you didn't show…"_

_"I needed you today, so where did you go?..."_

The lights flickered for a mere moment in the window of a faraway building, before eventually darkening wholly, leaving no residue of the brightness that was there only a second earlier. These lights were not the only ones to do so – many of the skyscraper apartments, hotels, and otherwise structures had been dimmed, some entirely and others almost. Down below, traffic moved in varying speeds, looking more like fireflies than vehicles against the dark. The view would have been quite magnificent, were it not for the cloud of misery that seemed to have pulled itself over the whole of the Earth.

The wind picked up now, colliding with my face and blowing my hair back, out of my face. I did not realize up until that point that I had been facing it, so when the coolness of the breeze came into contact with my skin, I shuddered, completely unprepared. It hadn't been a cold day, but it was well into the night hours now, and with them came a chilling, eerie atmosphere.

I didn't belong here – in more ways than I could admit to myself. How I'd wandered to the rooftop of the one of the tallest buildings in the city was unbeknownst to me. My legs must've had minds of their own, for I knew that the brain in my head did not make a voluntary decision to come here. Seattle was, perhaps, the absolute worst place for me to be – especially now. There were those out there who did not want me alive…those who did not want me….

I stopped my thought. The sentence was too painful to start, and there was no way I could finish it. The words were my own now – I did not hear them the way I used to inside my head – soft, delicate, careful….velvety……honest…………

Down on the street, a semi had a near miss with what looked like a pick-up truck, though I could be certain given the distance. A less-than pleasant yet surprisingly fitting symphony of honking erupted though the air. All due presence seemed to stand utterly and entirely still, though I knew that life went on everywhere, all the time. Maybe it was me. Maybe wherever I was, everything suddenly seemed dead. It would be better for the environment, then, if I was removed. All the more reason to follow through with the plan.

My feet were bare, but I couldn't remember why. The only thing that seemed vaguely familiar was the feel of thin, delicate grass brushing their soles, as though attempting to tickle. My skin absorbed the memory like a sponge in water. It didn't matter that I was, in fact, standing atop a cold, cemented ground, roughly poured and uncomfortable. Memories could do that to you – make you feel comforted and at ease – but they were traitors. One moment you might be lost in a fog of illusions that got your brain high with joy, and the next doubled over in pain and agony, constricting and writing over something that clung to your skin like a leech.

Why here? Why this particular rooftop, on this particular block, in this particular city? What bizarre notions had my body gone through in order to decide upon this exact spot? There was nothing familiar whatsoever about my surroundings, as I was absolutely positive that I'd never actually been to this part of Seattle. Grand and full of movement, it was clearly a metropolitan area, filled with crowds of people during the day and drunken party animals at night.

Like a seizure, my head suddenly flung backwards, and I looked up into the starless, moonless night sky with an expression that was surely far beyond normal. A relapse of the past struck me unable to move anything. I could only stand and stare, while images flashed in my eyes. I could not block them out, having been rendered helpless by an odd force.

I saw myself standing in a place quite similar to the once I was currently in. Still alone, still hurting. My reasoning was all different then – I had been chasing a memory. Seeing it all in my head, I could almost feel soft dirt beneath my feet, and then the takeoff – flying through the air and then down. My eyes had been open, and I saw everything shoot upwards, though it was really I who was falling. Falling…falling…falling…into the depths of the dark sea, letting the water wash over me like a feather. By the time I had gathered enough sense to understand I was dying – to realize that I did not _want_ to die – the current had already been set into motion. Were it not for my friend – to whom I owed everything I had – I would not have been here.

Things were different now, though it couldn't have been more than a week since the cliff-diving episode. I had achieved my ultimate goal – I had been there with the presence of a certain voice – a certain, very pleasant illusion.

There had never been a voice. I felt it afterwards, though I did not test the theory again. I let myself drift through life as I had in the past, allowing myself to be carried down with the tide. Of course, now I knew I was right. I curled my toes against the edge of the roof, just to be sure.

Nothing.

This was no longer surprising, nor disappointing. Crazy, wishful thinking – what did it matter now? Now that I knew I had been wrong – now that I knew I had led myself into believing there was more to all of this than I was told.

Nothing to hear, nothing to want, nothing to wish for.

Nothing to live for.

This past week had been somewhat of a breakthrough point for me. I'd realized the truth – accepted it at last. Accepted it – and decided that I would not live with it.

Now that I knew, there was no way I could go back to the way my life was when it was still a lie. I would be completely brain-dead, unable to think. I could run a hand over a silk shirt and I would not feel it. I could inhale the scent of a French perfume and I would not smell it. I could eat a piece of blueberry pie and I would not taste it. I could look at a picture, or a scene, or the pages of a book, and I would not see them. The body would function, but without the soul. My soul could not go on – it never had a chance. Not since the beginning of the end.

I wouldn't do that to Charlie. To Jacob. To Renee. To Angela and Ben. To those who deserved the entire Bella, and not just her body. I wouldn't leave them with a mere shell of who I used to be, so very, very long ago. Taking myself out entirely would ease the burden that would fall upon them if I didn't. I knew I could never be to Jacob what he wanted me to be. I had fed on his love for me for too long. Selfish, horrible… The way things had been going at any rate, I didn't deserve to live.

I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet, letting my toes feel the edge every now and then, just make sure it was still there. I couldn't risk all of this ending up to be a dream. I needed for this to be real.

The wind had picked up speed now, and I shivered at the fall of the temperature. It felt large for such a short amount of time, though I hadn't been keeping track of how long I'd been standing there.

My head lifted slightly, and I inhaled deeply. There was a faint trace of smoke in the air – the good kind, from fires, rather than the putrid reek of cigarettes. I let the scent caress my nostrils gently, trying to make the sensation last. Though my body took kindly to pleasures like this, my mind rejected them harshly, knowing better than to make last-minute attachments.

For a moment, I contemplated whether or not anyone would actually be surprised when they found out what I'd done. Already they thought I was suicidal, though I truly, honestly hadn't been. Even now, it wasn't so much that I wanted to die, rather than to be put out of my misery. To be euthanized, able to at last let go of whatever feelings still lingered and completely separate myself from the dreary reality. I'd led myself on long enough to believe that any sort of connection still remained. It was time for me to embrace the truth – completely.

I had to admit, I was proud of myself. I'd made it this far without shedding a single tear. I didn't think I could do it – I wasn't strong enough. But I had gotten here, totally dry. I just hoped that it would last through to the end. That would be nice, but probably too much to ask for. Already I would be getting what I wanted, though I couldn't decide whether or not I deserved to die. Doing so would be spectacular, but perhaps I deserved to suffer. Maybe I wasn't good enough to ask for death. Maybe that was too much.

I couldn't think about it anymore. My knees gave way and I sank down onto them, my head bent down, staring at the passing traffic below. It made me dizzy, and beads of sweat erupted on my hands and on my forehead. I was sure I was up higher than I'd been on the cliff, making the fall down all the more treacherous and my chances of survival all the more minimal.

Good.

I braced myself, gripping the edge with my hands that now seemed to be soaked in sweat despite the cool temperature. My body was trembling from head to toe, and I wondered why. Surely not from fear – anticipation, perhaps?

Inhaling for what I prayed would be the last time, I pried myself away from the roof and horizontally out into the air.

As soon as that connection broke and I felt nothingness surround me, combined with the pull of gravity, something inside me broke loose. I didn't make a single sound, but as I hurdled towards the ground, my eyes drifted shut, and I let myself think of everything painful all at once.

__

His beautiful face stood frozen in my eyes, and I was sure that had I opened them, his image would still be the only thing I saw. So clear was this face, so realistic… I felt myself reach out a hand, though I was no longer sure if my body was straight or contorted in some way, and head for that face. I felt it run through his soft, bronze hair, feeling the texture and letting it surround my hand completely. It lowered, after a while, cupping his check and gazing into those brilliant eyes, meeting them with my own. His skin was smooth, hard, and cold to my touch, bringing back another rush of memories from the past. My other hand intertwined with his, my fingers stroking patters into it. I smelled the scent of him – that indescribable, irrevocably tender smell. I looked at him in his entirety and let my breath out in a fast _whoosh_. Like always, his perfection left me breathless. I remembered every kiss, every touch, every feeling. I remembered every smile, every laugh, every night together. I savored the moment, knowing that the end consume me any second now…

__

It didn't matter that every image, every feeling, every word sliced through me like a butcher's knife on a holiday ham. It didn't matter that every square inch of me felt as though on fire, carved apart and tortured to its very limit. It didn't matter because I knew these would be the last things I would ever feel again.

Something slammed into me, rock hard against my body, making me gasp and leaving me completely winded. The pain followed, but seemed incomparable to the emotional dissection of my soul at that very moment. Was this it, then? Did I hit ground? And if so, why was I still thinking? Breathing? Hurting?

With shock, I found that wind enveloped me again. NO! This wasn't supposed to happen! I should be _gone_!!

Trembling, I opened my left eye a crack. I was not a big splat on the ground – an inconvenience for someone to clean up. Instead, I was on someone's back, who ran with immense speed away from the streets and towards what looked like a dark, secluded alleyway. My head rested on this someone's back, and I couldn't find the strength to lift the skull that now felt like it weighted a hundred pounds. My hands dug into the someone's shirt. I wanted to speak, but I was trembling too much to make any sound.

I was still on fire. I was entirely covered in flames, each feasting on whatever bit was left of me. Every time I said his name, every time his face flashed in my mind – I was paying for all of it now, big time.

"_STOP!!!"_ I finally managed to suppress out of my mouth. It erupted like a volcano, loud, shrill, and not sane in the least.

Whomever I was riding did in fact, slow to a jog, until finally coming to a complete stop. Without taking his hands off of me, I found him to swing me around from the back to the front, until I was looking up at a face much to familiar.

I clung on to his shoulders, banging my head against his collarbone, and probably causing permanent damage in the process. "_Oh Jacob Jacob Jacob…"_ my voice did not sound like my own. I buried my entire face into his chest, as though trying to head butt my way through him. I was bawling uncontrollably now, already soaked in tears. "_Jacob Jacob Jacob…"_

"Shhh...Bella…" he did not say much. He just held me close to him. His face was nothing like I'd ever seen it. He wasn't just letting me suffer next to him – he was suffering with me.

"_He left me…he left me, Jacob…"_ I wailed into his shirt. I squeezed my eyes so tight that it was a miracle the lids didn't rip. My fists were already clenching into him as hard as was it was possible, probably tearing his skin. Jacob did not complain. He just held me. _"He left me…alone…I thought…."_ I was screaming and sounding quite delirious, but that no longer seemed to matter.

"I know, Bella. I know."

_"I loved him…Jake, I loved him!"_

"I know."

Cold was a word that I no longer understood the meaning of. There was no such thing as cold, being pressed up against Jacob like this. The burning fire, combined with the heat of his body and words, caused me to let out an insane scream, at the end of which my voice broke. I had nothing left in me to scream again. I was empty. Drained.

_"He said he didn't want me…"_ I whispered, tasting the salty tears in my mouth. I had probably ruined his shirt with them. _"He said I'm not good for him…"_

Jacob wrapped his arms around me tighter, pulling me even closer, if that was possible. His chin rested on my head. Though he was strong enough to hold me without, my legs wrapped around his waist. Looking into his face, I saw that there was no lust in his eyes – only love and care. Jacob loved me and Jacob cared about me. That showed on him crystal clear. "I know."

For a moment – as mere as it was – it was just the two of us. Bella and Jacob – no one else existed. And for a moment – even shorter – there was no pain.

I had no more energy to speak. I felt floppy and lifeless – like a rag doll. My grip on Jacob did not loosen, however.

It would take time, I knew, but eventually the heat surrounding us would start to fill the void inside of me, rather than burn my body.

I was still trembling, but for the first time I wondered if it was because I was furious that I had been stopped, or relieved.

Some stains, I suppose, just can't be washed away.


End file.
